Jinxed
by Mizztrapped
Summary: With a beautiful supermodel for a sister and a star football player for a brother, how is Kagome Higurashi, heir to her father's modelling company suppose to do to outdo them?
1. Prologue

**Disclaimer:** Inuyasha belongs to Rumiko Takahashi.  
  
**Special Note**: This is the new rewritten version of Jinxed, package includes: New Plot, New Outlook and New...yeah.

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There's a really old Chinese belief that if your plate is dirty after eating, your future husband would be a very ugly man, or in this case, boyfriend.  
  
I mean, whenever we serve spaghetti, my sister always leaves about three- fourths of it on her plate, the noodles quickly becoming soggy in the spicy tomato sauce. And whenever we go out to eat, there is _always_ a bit of parmesan cheese left at the bottom along with unwanted croutons in her Cesar salad.  
  
So why is she the one that's going out with the super hot, world-famous model, utterly rich, rated as number-one in the 'Ten Hottest Guys' article in YM, Naraku Onigumo?  
  
She should be going out with that pock-marked janitor that is always leering privately at her behind the dumpsters, not that I hate my sister, after all, she did help me study for my tenth grade final, which I didn't pass, and attempted to help me create a slightly deformed replica of the solar system in grade eight, in which I got a F, hey! I still got a 'plus' sign after it.  
  
I mean,_ I_ practically lick my plate after finishing my triple-fudge, double- decker chocolate cake, spoon up every last drop of my miso soup and I _always_ make it a priority to nibble down every last grain of rice in my bowl.  
  
So how come she has Mr. Supermodel while I don't?  
  
Oh yeah, I'm not the one that's made for strutting up and down the catwalk in tall strappy heels and tight white dresses made from some famous Italian designer, oh no, I'm the Higurashi child that everyone predicts will bloom in the world of stock markets and funds.  
  
Every single day with the sometimes exception of the weekend, I have to sit in my stuffy office completed with a private bar—which Father told me that I was not allowed to drink from—and sit in a tall, plushy navy blue chair, with a gold-plated name plate on the far left hand corner of my desk, with the big, black words saying 'Kagome Higurashi'.  
  
Who couldn't love a thing like that?  
  
That's not the point however, the point is that while my sister—older than me by two years—is being fawned over by stunning models and cute photographers, I'm being hit on by scrawny messenger boys and arrogant know- it-all heirs to multi-millionaire companies.  
  
While she is posing in the front cover of Vogue, I'm smiling at you in front of Business Reform, Deluxe Edition. While Kikyo Higurashi is wearing the latest Calvin Klein sunglasses on the billboards downtown, I'm stuck in a Ralph Lauren white business suit complete with white slacks and pearly blouse.  
  
While all she has to do is wear showy little numbers, I have to write until my hand cramps up. While all she has to do is drink champagne and flirt at parties, I have to work up a sweat at introducing myself and finding sponsors.  
  
You see the problem in this? Who is the one that licks their plates and who is the one that has to slave over the stock reports and worry about the future financial stability of the company?  
  
That's right. Me, but mind you, I'm not whining-I found out that whining doesn't work unless someone is listening to you-I'm just merely stating my concerns...concerning, well, _me_.  
  
So here I am frantically signing stacks of reports while day-dreaming about the faceless future boyfriend wearing a black button-up dress shirt and black slacks with polished black dress shoes. Black is sophisticated, and the man I will one day date has to be sophisticated.  
  
He would have to bring me fresh roses—red and white—everyday and he would drive up in his car, maybe a black Mercedes-Benz or a silver Porsche, I will expect no less, and whisk me off to some expensive restaurant and we'll talk over a candle-lit dinner complete with red wine and chocolate mousse for dessert, then afterwards, we'll go to the beach and walk shoeless in the—  
  
"Uh, Miss Higurashi? You still have these reports to sign..."  
  
Oh right, Suki was still here, ever loyal, holding out a ball-point pen and a stack of black folders waiting for my autograph.

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**A/N: **So, this is my newest version of Jinxed because I hated the old one, because there was absolutely no plot whatsoever, it was more of a 'thing' for me to do when I'm stuck with writer's block and/or isn't in the mood to be studying for a final exam or something.

So, now I'm restarting this story and hopefully making it a better one. Kagome will be more cheerful in this one...if everything plays out well, and whats the pairing? Don't ask me, this is the first chapter! Let me think about it for a while, and before anyone asks:

Yes, Kikyo is going to be nice in this one.

Please Review, they make me happy. =)


	2. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer:** Inuyasha belongs to Rumiko Takahashi.  
  
**Side Note:** This is to explain how Kagome's mother isn't here anymore...and will allow me an opening for bringing Miroku in. =)

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**Chapter 1-**  
  
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Ever since I was but six years old, I had begun dancing along with the ballerinas I saw on the television. I would sit there, with my bowl of fruit loops, mouth opened wide as I stared at the elaborate dresses, shining hair and various colored toe-shoes.  
  
When I managed to get my first golden star from grade two, my parents had smothered me with kisses and hugs, telling me how proud they were of me. When they told me that for a prize for being so good in school, I could choose anything I wanted, I had immediately told them I wanted the pretty blue shoes that Lisa—the ballerina teacher that taught the basic movements on T.V—had.  
  
I guess they were a bit surprised. I mean, most kids my age would probably ask for the newest Barbie beach-house or a brown-eyed puppy with white spots, and maybe, some of them would go as far to begging to go to Disneyland. But never less, they bought me beautiful ballet toe-shoes with satin ribbons to tie around my feet, and I wasted no time running up to my room, after kissing my parents on the cheek of course, and tried them on.  
  
I always had this little premonition that if I had those 'pretty blue shoes that Lisa wore'; I would be able to dance.  
  
So you see realize how disappointed I was when I tied on the last strap and made it into a pretty butterfly bow to find out that I couldn't do the pirouette?  
  
I had ran crying to my mother who was sipping her coffee and started complaining about how I couldn't spin, how I couldn't lift my feet into the air like Lisa, how my hair hadn't miraculously spun itself into a tight bun, wrapped in a silk ribbon of the palest shade of yellow, how my overalls and t-shirt hadn't turn into a shimmering pink leotard completed with a poofy dress.  
  
If my mother had laughed at me, which I'm sure she did, I didn't care, all I cared about was that I wasn't a ballerina, I wasn't all pretty and 'graceful like a swan' as one of the announcers had called it.  
  
My mother had gently explained to me that these things didn't just happen, it took time and practicing to accomplish, that if I wanted to become a ballerina one day, I would have to take lessons and practice day and night.  
  
So I took her advice to heart and went back to school, earned another gold star and asked for dancing lessons.  
  
My parents when they heard of it, had nodded with humor in their eyes, nodding with a smile on their face when I told them that I was going to be known as _the_ Kagome Higurashi, world-famous ballet dancer, who was going to have her face on every poster in every single city in the world. Apparently, my parents had thought that I was young and cute, too little to know what I wanted, so my Daddy pinched my cheeks and ruffled my hair, saying: _"Whatever you want sweetheart."  
_  
On the day I started my lessons, I had been so excited, running around with my very own pink duffle bag, just the right size for me, around the house screeching on top of my lungs as I spun the slippers on my hand.  
  
Kikyo had very nicely told me to be quiet. In fact, I believe her exact words were:  
  
_"Shut up you little freak! Can't you see that my favorite show is on?"_  
  
Of course, I paid her no heed and continued to run around the house and into the kitchens where the cook was preparing that night's dinner. She had smiled at me and offered me a gumdrop, which I took and popped into my mouth.  
  
When the time came for me to go in with the other children, I had hid behind Mom and gripped her cashmere sweater in my hands, I think I might've stretched it from how tightly I was holding onto it.  
  
She had smiled down at me and shooed me in with the rest of the girls. There was a line of little girls, all around my age, standing at the side, looking with awe in their eyes at the older students practicing on the beam.  
  
I had followed their lead and gazed at the beautiful dancing figures, all twirling and spinning around and around. You could almost say that I saw roses and ribbons swirling around them.  
  
When it was our turn, I was quite disappointed to see that all we were learning was how to count.  
  
I knew how to count, I got a gold star because of that for goodness sake! When I told Marice, our teacher that, she had laughed, a deep throaty laugh and pinched my cheeks—what adults have with pinching cheeks is still unknown to me—and shook her head, a wisp of her glossy brown hair escaping from the blue barrette holding her hair up, _"No munchkin, this is different, we're trying to find a rhythm here, do you know what a rhythm is?"  
_  
I bounced my head up and down, nodding 'yes', _"Yes, the teacher from school said that it was the pattern of musical movement through time."  
_  
Of course I had no idea what that meant, but all Marice did was laugh her rich laugh and patted my head.  
  
Three years had passed, and the times of being an extra in 'The Nutcracker' or one of the flowers in the yearly recital was gone for me.  
  
By the age of ten, I was old enough to earn at least a part in the yearly recital that had lines.  
  
When Marice told me that I had gotten the part as the princess' escort, I was overjoyed, not only was I going to walk beside the beautiful dancing princess, I was going to be dancing along with her, even if it was only for a minute or two.  
  
My Daddy had patted my head and smiled down at me, saying that he was proud of me, and Mom had hugged me, telling me that no mother could be as happy as she could ever be.  
  
I was confused, I didn't get the lead part, and I definitely didn't have the grace and perfection of Resmelda, the princess, so why was my parents so happy for me?  
  
I don't think that I have ever figured it out.  
  
Never less, three days before the play, we had to go outside in the rain to play soccer, the weather wasn't bad despite the rain, it was only a slight drizzle, but it was enough to allow the flu that was traveling around the school to catch me, leaving me in bed for days, whimpering and face flushed with a fever.  
  
I was delirious for days, too sick to even notice that I had missed out on my own recital, allowing Jane, my substitute to dance in place of me.  
  
Marice had been nice to me and had smoothed a lock of my black hair behind my ear as she smiled at me, _"It's alright Kagome, these things happen."_  
  
Then, time passed and by the age of thirteen, I was busy with sports, ballet and school.  
  
Always, ballet would be my top priority, I would spend countless hours at the studio, dancing along to the old records that Marice had kept from when she was a young girl. Everyday, I would come home at exactly six o'clock, and be washed up for dinner, then going up to my room for homework.  
  
I never had the time to socialize with the rest of my friends, ballet was always on my schedule in the afternoons, homework in the evening and my soccer practice on Saturday mornings.  
  
It happened when I was fourteen, two weeks until my birthday, and five until my grade nine grad. It came so unexpectedly you know? One minute we were all eating dinner, Souta blabbering away about his new video game when Mom spoke up, her gentle voice laced with tension.  
  
_"Kenji, I went to the doctor's today..."_  
  
My Daddy looked up at her and watched expectedly.  
  
_"The doctor said...he said that...I have about ten months left..."_  
  
I could remember every single detail, the way that Kikyo's water glass slipped from her hands, Souta's mouth opened to say nothing and my Daddy's eye's widening with denial and shock.  
  
I could remember the delicate crystal glass in front of me, silver fork on my porcelain plate and the pristine white napkin, lying unused in front of me.  
  
Everything after that was fuzzy, I think I ran. Yeah, I think that was it. I ran.  
  
Since I was little, Kikyo would tell me that I ran from everything I didn't like, that I would try to hide from anything that I found unpleasing, she said I had a tendency to run away from my fears.  
  
I'm not running-I'm just trying to escape the truth.  
  
It was so hard, during those ten months, the whole family was tense, all of us snapping at one another when Mom wasn't around, when Mom was around, we tried our best to act like the loving family we once were.  
  
If Mom ever noticed that we didn't speak as much as we use to, she didn't comment.  
  
My grades were falling, quite rapidly, going from a high 90s to the low 70s, I didn't care. My Daddy received a lot of phone calls from my teachers complaining about my steady absence of homework, my lack of attention in classes, and loud mouthing sarcastically at the teachers.  
  
All Daddy did was tell them he would talk with me and left it at that, he never did get around to talking with me, he made sure to spend every single minute with Mom, taking his work with him back home, sending all his calls to his secretary and canceling any unnecessary meetings.  
  
But every night, after Mom had fallen asleep, he would go out, only to come back home smelling heavily of perfume and alcohol.  
  
I didn't comment, after all, while I had my dancing to keep me together, he had another woman to keep him sane.  
  
I didn't comment abou it, but I never said that I didn't hate him for betraying Mom.  
  
During those ten months, I began to spend more and more time at the studio, trying to drown my sorrow in dancing, I would mentally berated myself every time I stumbled, every time I missed a beat, every time I fell.  
  
I cried to sleep every night, crying for our broken family, crying for my family's pain, and crying for myself.  
  
Nine months had passed, and true to the doctor's word, Mom had started to get frailer and frailer.  
  
I remembered the time when she asked to see me, shooing Daddy out with a weak smile, saying that she had been neglecting me lately, and wanted to spend some mother-daughter bonding time with her.  
  
She had brought me close to her and hugged me, her embrace was so light, so weak that I had to close my eyes and tighten my own hold on her to feel her arms around me.  
  
I had felt so... _young_ then. The feeling in me was the one that I had when I was six-years old and had a really bad nightmare, and Mom had spent the whole night holding me, telling me it was going to be okay.  
  
She had made me sit in the overstuffed armchair beside her bed and had her hand loosely hanging in my own.  
  
I don't think I can forget what she told me that night, even if I tried my hardest. She had told me that she knew Daddy had been having an affair with someone.  
  
I didn't know what to do, was I suppose to act shock? Or tell her that I knew, but never bothered telling her?  
  
She had saved me the trouble and stroked my hair, her hand trembling from the effort as her lips curved into a soft smile, she had told me that she knew Daddy was having an affair and she didn't mind, and that I shouldn't blame him.  
  
I don't know how she knew I hated Daddy back then, I had been replying with curt answers whenever he asked me to do something, giving him the cold shoulder when I came home, requesting for my dinner in my rooms and such.  
  
I told her that I won't blame him, and she had sighed, a soft little sigh and closed her eyes serenely, she had told me that she knew, and that I was the one that held this family together, that everyone depended on me.  
  
I had shook my head and whispered that it was her that kept this family together through everything.  
  
_'But I have to go soon Kagome; soon, it will be you that will be holding this family together. It'll be you that will be gluing back this broken family together,'_ she silently whispered, her throat cracked as a single tear left the blue eyes that I had inherited.  
  
I guess she had noticed that Souta was loosing himself in the virtual reality of videogames, Kikyo wearing heavy make-up and brand-name clothes, acting high-and-mighty to hide her pain, and Daddy going to find comfort in the arms of another woman.  
  
I had hugged her once and kissed her ever-soft cheek, and tightened her hand in mine.  
  
_'Shhhh...sleep Mom, everything will be fine soon. I promise.'_  
  
She closed her eyes and smiled.  
  
She died the next day.  
  
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A/N: Okay...this was more on the...less cheerful side, and I don't really pride myself in writing angsty stuff cuz I really suck at it.  
  
I'm really trying to make the chapters longer, and hopefully, when the plot starts to unravel, it'll be longer and everything will be more clear.  
  
Also, on a side note here, finals are coming for me and I am hopelessly hopeless in science and social right now, so I have to slow down updating and start my studying! . Also my piano exam is coming up...dramatic music here and I haven't been practicing, which reminds me, I should be studying for my Chinese school final, but I'm writing instead! Eep!  
  
Thank you for reading and I hope this chapter isn't such a big disappointment, I think it is....doesn't seem right...oh well, I hope its satisfactory enough though.  
  
Also, thank you too all my reviewers that reviewed my last chapter!  
  
Anyway, Reviews make me happy, being happy motivates me to write faster, writing faster means more updating and more updating means more reviews! 


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